


Death's Overture

by GrieverBitMyFinger



Series: Death's Overture [2]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Adult Ciel Phantomhive, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Boys In Love, Calavera, Caring Ciel, Caring Sebastian, Cemetery, Character Death, Cuddling & Snuggling, Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, F/M, Family Loss, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Holidays, Human Sebastian Michaelis, Kissing, Loneliness, M/M, No Smut, Poor Ciel Phantomhive, Poor Sebastian, Sad with a Happy Ending, SebaCiel - Freeform, Spirits, Sugar Skulls, Sweet, it's not as sad as it sounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 06:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16057592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrieverBitMyFinger/pseuds/GrieverBitMyFinger
Summary: They say that it all begins with life and death, but who's to say that it's true? The dead cannot speak, so how would one know what happens after a heart has stopped beating unless they were to see it for themselves?





	Death's Overture

**Author's Note:**

> Look at me posting more than once this month, that hasn't happened in awhile! I have three things to update and Halloween fics to begin, so what do I do? I create another AU instead! I hope it turned out okay!
> 
> Chapter song: Autumn Leaves - Ed Sheeran

For the first time in months, the cemeteries were anything but silent. Before monuments and gravestones sat adults and children alike, some families large and some with only one visitor kneeling before the lonely granite. Grieving sobs echoed the grounds, the shining tears of mourners catching in the flickering, orange light of the candles decorating the grounds in honor of the dearly departed, but with those despondent were also the joyful, flipping through photo albums and speaking of days from the past while joining their living loved ones upon the well kempt grass near grey and white monuments. Faces were painted white and decorated in festive shades; greens and yellows swirled elegantly across cheeks, pinks, oranges, and reds spread from brow to hairline, blues and purples surrounding glassy eyes, and blacks lined from one corner of the lips to the next - vertical lines connecting to the longer horizontal one to complete the fascinatingly, intricate design. Offerings of fruit and breads, toys and pictures, collars and flowers, were laid upon alters - some inside homes, others outside of cathedrals or within the holy buildings, and more compact versions set near the spirits' final resting place. It was a day to celebrate life as well as a day to weep for the loss of another. Parents, siblings, friends, lovers, and children alike were all telling stories to the names engraved, knowing without seeing that the ones who passed on were still watching and listening to their memories and tales as they talked in happy whispers or broken cries. Even though we are meant to move past our fear of death, such a day made our own mortality that much more evident, especially when gazing upon the city of the dead. As sad but still hopeful a sight as it is, I am not sure why I chose to attend. It is a tradition I had never taken part in before; I wasn't born or raised here, nor was I brought up knowing the specifics of this holiday until recent years. In London, I had visited my beloved aunt's grave only once after her funeral. I missed her greatly, but the drive had been nearly a day and a half, which wasn't easy to afford when having to rely solely on a rental car to get me there. But here people would drive even further than that to honor their loved ones, and with my own darling little sister and greatly loved parents now residing here, I found no reason not to go - even if it would stir up bad memories of the day I lost them. 

The cherry red brushed over my eyebrows and eyelids, and even further below, felt unnatural, as did the sunny oranges and yellows that formed tiny petals around them. They felt too bright for my bleak mood. I am doing this to celebrate the lives they had lived, and I do celebrate them, but when they died, a big piece of me died with them, and it is a part of me that will always be missing. I can still smile and enjoy things, but that won't stop the fierce aching in my heart that sometimes threatens to swallow me whole. I bit my lip in frustration when I smeared the black at the tip of my nose. The face of a sugar skull is traditional, of course, and I will not ignore this tradition even if it is harder to apply than I had first assumed. It is meant to ward off further death and to show the colours of who we ourselves as individuals are, it wouldn't feel right to not do this. Besides, Sieglinde always loved colours. The swirls of green curling beneath my cheekbones were in her remembrance. She wore nothing but forest shades; no pinks or blues, no purples or yellows, always green. It suited her well and brought out her emerald eyes, greatly set off by her raven hair. Hair just like mother's. With a sigh, I set aside the brushes and paints I had used to imitate a calavera. While Sully had certainly possessed the perfect features for her nature based color pallet, she had never hesitated to toss me more fiery shades of apparel. "Your eyes look red in this lighting so wearing these will make you look unique, your appearance can be rather boring when you're only wearing black." She had never been one to hold back what she really thought and was always quick to smile in the most teasing way possible after outright offending someone. Rude and annoying as she could be at times, we were as close as could be and it still feels wrong to not hear her giggling each time I screw up a recipe or pick up my phone upside down. My lips tugged up at the memories. She was like the sun, always radiant and cheerful. Mother and father would have been proud of her. I left the mirror in favour of collecting a few more things for our parents as well, setting them down in a cardboard box to carry with me. They were buried next to Sieglinde and the makeshift alter would be spread between the three sites. 

After locking up the small house I lived in and straightening the ruby tie around my neck, I left by foot. The cemetery was no more than ten minutes away and the brisk autumn air would help me steel myself before I got there. The streets certainly weren't absent of parades and celebrations. Many of the city's patrons had taken to the streets, some dancing and others simply following after the people in front of them, all adorning either suits and top hats or finely detailed dresses and floral headdresses, their faces all adorning unique designs in many lively shades. An abundance of flower and catrina floats lead the line of people on their way, handsomely crafted and gaining the awe of the many who chose to stand upon the sidewalk and admire everything from afar. Music filled the air and carried on the wind until slowly it faded into a gentle buzz in the distance, replaced by both loving and pained murmurs as I crossed beneath the intricate iron archway into the burial grounds. Some tombstones were already lined with flora and decor while others were still in the process of being cleaned; very few remained bare. Twelve rows down and fifteen granite stones in, I finally reached my destination. "Hi there Sully, mum, dad," I murmured, blinking rapidly to uncloud my eyes before clearing my throat and placing a single kiss to each of the three grave markers and removing my hat, dropping it beside me unceremoniously. Pulling a cloth from the box I had brought along, I wiped away anything that had gathered near the engraved letters, making sure they were all well cleaned before beginning to decorate them. Massive bouquets of marigolds were strewn out in what I hoped to be a pleasing manner, candles, family pictures, and sugar skulls soon spread out in front of the golden petals along with a trinket for each. A black lace choker for Sieglinde, one she had worn almost every day, loved only second to the one she still wore. A peridot jeweled dagger for mother that had been given to her by father as an anniversary present. And grandfather's pocket watch for father that he had been gifted shortly before his wedding. Along with those precious items laid their favourite sweets and three pan de muerto. With my offering made, I sat back on my heels, lighting the candles as the sun began to disappear behind the tree-line and more and more of the area came to life. 

A pair of young, twin girls enthusiastically told of new matching dresses the stone in front of mother's along with their parents, I assumed from the black and white photo held in the older daughter's hands that it must have been a grandparent. A few spaces down, another man sat, silent and streaming tears as he placed a small velvet box and a crimson rose beside his own candles. The girl he had wished to marry then. As I turned back to face the ofrendas I had set, I wasn't sure what to say - if I should say anything at all in hopes of my family hearing me. There wasn't much to tell of my life, only memories to rehash. Unless they wanted to know that I had been close to adopting a cat last week. I can almost picture how excited mother would be, how father would shake his head in humor, and how Sully would say I should get a dog instead. There had been so many debates on the subject of which animal was better... "So.. I finally tried the Hawaiian burger you loved so much last time I went to visit Claude in Florida, dad. I can't say I liked it as much as you did, but I'm sorry for judging it so harshly. Pineapple wasn't as bad on it as I had expected," I laughed quietly, eyes trained on the picture of the ginger haired man in question before shifting to the one of my sanguine-lipped mother, "And mom, you remember that stray cat we would always feed? The neighbors across from us adopted her and named her Tigerlily. She's grown so much, but still gets excited when she sees me walk by if she's in the garden. You would love her soft fur." She was to blame for my love of animals, felines in particular, and had been quick to let me take in the stray kitten who wondered upon us when I was six years old. The kitten we named Marina had been the family pet and was now remembered with a turquoise collar, a fish snack, and a picture of her own just beside my sister's. "Oh dear Sully, you would have been overjoyed on Monday. A new coffee shop opened down the street, on your birthday no less, and I think you would be amazed at how many flavors they offer. They even have that overly-sweet cinnamon flavour you got when we were in London. I tried it for you yesterday, I think it's even sweeter than the other one had been. I'm sure you would prefer it, actually; they added cream on top too. And next door to it is a new pet supply store, we could have gotten a treat for Marina while we were there." A bittersweet smile was directed at my younger sibling and cat's frames. I closed my eyes, allowing a few tears to drip down my cheeks before facing the ground and my knees, "I miss you. I miss you all so much... I hope everything is brighter where you are, that you will never have a bad day or feel pain again. That you have everything you want... I will see you again someday, and maybe by that time Sully will have come to realize the superiority of cats." I choked out something reminiscent of a laugh. "I love you." 

Taking a moment to regain my bearings, I caught sight of something from the corner of my eye that I found rather sad. Since I had been there, every grave had been decorated or visited except for one. That isn't fair. With another glance to the miniature shrines I created, I stood up and took the two extra bouquets I had no room to place and carried them to the empty patch of grass along with a candle. Leaning down to place the flowers and wax, I dusted away the dirt and mud clinging to the edges of the headstone; it must not have been tended to since the day it was created. It was strictly left up to the families here for upkeep and this person must not have had one. Sitting down properly to offer respect, despite not knowing the one laid to rest here, I read the words carved, noticing that nothing apart from his years and name were written. _Ciel Phantomhive. December 14th, 1996 - December 26th, 2017_ The dates below his title showed that he had only been twenty-one. If I hadn't already seen so many others praying and bowing on the tangerine-leaf coated ground by themselves, it would have been surprising to me to find that he had no one there for him. Perhaps he had been in the same position I was in before his passing. He was so young and yet he too was alone... Unknown to me for mere seconds, my moment of silent contemplation wasn't to last much longer, not when a dark shadow fell over my shoulders and two faintly swinging, boot-clad feet suddenly appeared in my eye-line. Raising my chin hesitantly, I was greeted by something highly unexpected: a pair of dark cobalt and hazy lavender eyes staring back at me. "Ah, I see you found me. Hello then."

**Author's Note:**

> Any ideas or questions? Feel free to send them to me! Tumblr: griever-bit-my-finger


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